


Fire Whiskey Kisses

by artgirl130



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bathrooms, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29500032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artgirl130/pseuds/artgirl130
Summary: Hermione wants to forget and Charlie is all to happy to help her.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Romilda Vane/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 11





	Fire Whiskey Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys,  
> Let me know what you guys think. This is also available on my Tumblr (under the same username).

Hermione took another shot of fire whiskey, the alcohol burning her throat, tears burning her eyes. Five years. He’d thrown five years of her life down the drain over Romilda Vane. She was furious. Sick. The idea that she was so easy for Ron to discard fuelled her rage. She’d thrown him out the second that she caught them together, tossing the ring at the new couple. She’d looked at the empty spot on her finger until she couldn’t bare it anymore. Hermione didn’t want to remember, she wanted to get so completely smashed that she might be able to forget for just one night.

“Fancy seeing you here.” A rich, familiar voice drawled from behind her. Turning in her seat she saw him propped on the bar next to her. She took a sharp intake of breath, eyes taking in the broad shoulders, scarred muscled arms, heavy freckles and red hair of Charlie Weasley. A smirk was playing on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes, the deep brown flecked with gold and worry.  
“Charlie, it’s nice to see you.”  
“Is it?” He questioned, taking the stool by her side. “I heard what Ron did. He’s a dick.”  
Hermione let out a wry chuckle, “That we agree on.”  
Charlie ordered them some more drinks while she downed the last of her shots. “He’s never appreciated it when he’s got something worth keeping.” The older wizard said, meeting her eyes. “You deserve better Hermione.” With a soft smile she reached out and gave his hand a light squeeze before raising her drink with her spare one.

“To better.”  
“To better.”

\--

One drink became two, became three, became more, became Hermione Jean Granger, brightest witch of her age, on the marble counter of the bathroom sink with her ex-boyfriend’s older brother between her legs, her tongue in his mouth. It was wrong, she knew it, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when it felt so right. The alcohol in her veins and the heat of his kisses chased every rational though from her mind until there was only Charlie.

Merlin’s beard!

Charlie.

His lips were scorching, demanding, intoxicating. The feeling of his pressed against her drove Hermione wild with desire, her hands exploring every inch of him that she could reach. Those broad shoulders. His taunt arms. The firm hardness of his chest. The silky feeling of his hair between her fingers as she raked her hands through it, arching into him as he began trailing kisses down her neck, licking and sucking as he went. “Fuck Hermione…” He grunted against her skin as she ground down against him, marking the skin over her pulse point. “We should stop.”  
“No…” she whined, the sound slipping from her lips so easily that it would have surprised her if it hadn’t been for the urgent, throbbing need between her legs that he had caused, demanding that the dragon tamer finish what he had started.  
“You deserve more than a quick fuck in a bathroom.”  
Hermione shifted, rubbing against him, until her lips were by his ear, her voice low and sultry, “Well then, take me home and give me what I deserve.”  
Charlie’s eyes darkened at her words, sending a thrill through her lower abdomen. Without another word he picked her up and apparated them back to his flat.  
\--  
The sunlight woke her the next morning, burning at her eyes. The pain in her head made her curse. “Morning.” A deep voice rumbled from beneath her.  
Shifting, she groaned, the delicious ache of her thighs reminding her of their night together, “Morning Charlie.”


End file.
